- Erotic Poetry
- Sonnet Five
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I’m cold, I’m cold, I’m cold, I’m fucking cold.
It permeates me to my very core.
I long, oh how I long for my sweet Whore.
To bring me warmth and comfort, to enfold
Me with embracing arms, and in our smold-
ring Passion of superfluous lust t’ implore
Me: harder, faster, deeper, more and more—
Until my passion’s fire grows twenty-fold.
Ah, for my lady’s beauty, for her grace,
Her mercy, the perfection of her form,
The subtle variation of her voice,
The way she cries out as I fuck her warm,
Tight asshole in unfathomable joys,
Her relish when I cum onto her face
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